All DJ Entries

Who is she, tucked in her long and too-thin casket? Sit aside the mourners. Not a souls is known, not even my own, I think.

A jittery man, red jumpsuit wrapped, plays broken keys, spews spoken hymns. Red backs into the bed. It tips. It rocks. The death mask within un-wrinkles with shock. Her brows twitch. Her lips narrow. Is she alive? Dead? Undead?

The assembled are unbothered.

Look back. Sleeper has shifted. She is mother, face convulsing, eyes rolling in REM rage. Stab of fear. Wash of revulsion.

Seek solace from the mourners. They are unmoved.

Breathe through the shock. Call upon cautious disbelief. This can't be real. Fumble through a reality check, "It's a dream. Of course it is. Just a dream. Just a dream."

Look back. Mother contorts into grandmother. Heavily painted eyes rip open. She sits up. Face bitter. We lock eyes. She gives an unloving grin full of secrets, full of sin. My soul prickles with dread.

The crowd are statues. "This is a dream!" I scream.

Look back. Grandmother contorts into Yubaba. We stand suddenly face to face. "Give me a hug," she croaks through wrinkles, rippling wild. Recoil. Then, through the fear comes clambering some calm. I claim, "This is dream." Step toward the arisen. Fall into embrace. Frighteningly, absolute nothing inhabits her hold. Yubaba pulls away. She floats away. Red still croons fragmented tunes. The undead gives gifts to the statues still littered about.

Slip into an icy, analytical space. "This is a dream. The walking dead. The waking dead. Re-awakening?"

Sailer
They stab poles into earth bones. Hoist city sized swaths of fabric high. "We will right the world," they sing to simpering herds. In actuality, no rhyme or reason stands behind the helter-skelter sails. But the herds are pacified. In fraud they trust.

Writer
I am writing. Or perhaps righting the wrongs they wove across long, misleading lives. The hidden truths behind the tales will finally see the light.

04; 10 am.
1. I dreamt I was watching my granddaughter do some math. I was trying to pay a bill which was 50£.

2. I was then in my old bedroom looking intently at the deco, I wanted a new mirror for my dressing table.

3. I was riding a white horse bareback galloping round the forest and the rivers were wild. the horse called sovereign jumped in and I fell off we both went under but swam back up.

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after those 3 dreams I tried to relax but was swamped with excitement, I think I wanted to LD then, but for some reason I was too stressed. I went back to sleep and had a blurred dream swimming under water and being able to breathe , in my dream I thought it was amazing and wouldn't come back up to the surface for a while, but unfortunately not quite lucid enough to realise I was dreaming, then I dreamt about about horses again..

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its true, dreams toward the end of the REM cycle get blurry, well at least I know when my REM cycle is at its strongest

Forked tongue splits a grin. Seeds of lies are sewn. Silence is safety. A sister and I Trip backward in time. We stroll our old halls. They are crowded, cold. Suddenly behold that I am birthday bare. I can't seem to care. This must be a dream. Reality Check. Yes! We are dreaming.

No assertations. Instead, simply know and follow the flow of this cliche scene. Sister is frantic to find me attire. Allow her lead. Door to door to door. All locked. Floor to floor to floor. Half-cocked. Each turn sees us ignored.

Suddenly he strides, dream within a dream. His eyes of twilight and his scarecrow grin cast magic across my lucid skin. His coat is offered. I accept. He goes his own way. His lingering scent leaves me wrapped in vulgar yearnings. But I am lucid. I know this trap. He is a sensual distraction. Reality check. Walk away.

Sister wanders off to find some ride. I wait, dance half naked outside the institute of my youth. I'm dreaming. Dreaming. Dreaming. Sister seems long gone. Bid the sun farewell. Pluck it from the sky. Admire its sharp shine in the hollow of my hand. Make a lucid wish. Now, blow out the sun. It lilts slowly away like a mess of milkweed fluff. Fall madly in love with its simple grace.

Catch a luscious scent. Feel a hungry leer. Surge of temptation. I know he is near. "Who are we?" I ask. No answer. I spin. Fall flat on my back. Laughing, I stand, slip off the jacket, "Take it back? I am naked, not afraid." No answer. Toss the jacket onto rocks. Into silken grass I sprawl. Allow whatever will come, to come. I slip... sink... and fall.

18th

Hamill Wall
Wall is a canvas equally divided. In each rectangle he deftly splashes a smatter of hues, a scribble of line. His storyboard, complete after a short time. Can not decipher his spatters of soul. And he will not share his secret story by way of worthless words. He signs it simply, Mark.

19th

Calenardhon
I am medicine for a horse lord, worn. Naked, across night, he takes his fill. He spills into specter realms with the trilling of the dusk. Slumber now, to strength. White tree arises. Her sons dismount. Step past the whispers and spirits of stone. We speak of treaties and of tarnished thrones, of fires rekindled yet swift to wither. Where is medicine for our world's swift decay?

I was shopping at a beach town somewhere sunny, clothes shopping, next thing I know I saw a giant tidal wave heading for the shore and people started running uphill and hiding..I ran with them heading for safety, but woke up.

Not very much else happened after that.. just one dream from last night.

I’m walking down a dirt road at night in some rural-looking, semi-wooded place. It’s very dark, maybe lit only by the moonlight. A car is coming down the road, from the direction I’m headed. It stops nearby, and a woman opens the driver’s side door slightly and asks me whether I need a ride. I tell her no, I’m just out for a walk. She drives off, and I keep going.

I’m only going as far as the end of the fence before I turn back - a wooden one on my right - and I’m almost there now. Actually, I’m not surprised the woman stopped, since I’m carrying some pillows with me, and that probably made it seem like I wasn’t just out here because I want to be. Why am I carrying these things anyway? I’ve been doing it for a while this way, and it’s not like I’ve ever done anything with them. Maybe I should just leave them behind next time.

Then it’s as if the scenario repeats itself, but with changes. This was a dream from early in the night: I went to bed a little after midnight, and woke up to record everything around 2. Perhaps because of this, even though the setting seems fully realized, the dream is unusually full of sudden shifts - or else I’m unusually aware of them - and I’m also aware at times of other less imagistic mental content taking place simultaneously, influencing the dream from without. This time, there’s a restaurant by the side of the road that I walk past - one that’s clearly still open, as I can see and hear people out on the terraces. As I turn around, I see a man a little ways behind me. He explains that he just happened to be walking the same way, as if he’s reassuring me that he’s not actually some kind of creeper.

The scene shifts. I’m in a hallway full of closed doorways where moving shadows pass by me on their way from one end to the other. A sense of unease. Major liminal space vibes here.

After what feels like a short time, though, the setting changes again. I’m once again outside on a moonlit night, but this place has a different feel to it. Also, I’m now aware that I’m dreaming, although it isn’t clear what led to this realization. There’s still a sense at times of parallel mental content happening, including awareness of a dream plot being imposed, but there are also some short segments where I seem to be imagining how things play out before they actually do.

I walk. It feels somehow more like reality than like a lucid dream - that's how it strikes me at the time, anyway - and I’m fascinated by how detailed the mist looks - little swirls of it are constantly catching the moonlight, especially over a stream I pass by, where it’s thickest. After what feels like a few minutes, I reach a house - my destination. I knock loudly on the garage door, and there’s another sudden change of scene, to where I’m now inside the garage.

Until now, I’ve been following the “plot”. It just feels as if I should somehow. But the setting here has felt so unaccountably somber. There’s a heaviness to the atmosphere that’s getting to be a little oppressive, and by now it’s starting to bug me a little, so I yell out: “It’s-a me, Mario!” As loud as I can.

“Don’t say that,” a voice says from right next to me. “It makes me heartbroken.” I turn to my left and see a man standing beside me.

“Why?” I ask. His answer didn’t quite make sense to me. “Is your name Mario?” But he doesn’t answer me. He is completely absorbed in pouring himself a glass of amber-colored liquid from a bottle into a glass and then drinking it. I take a closer look at him. He’s a fairly young man, white with short, dark-colored hair and wearing a black leather jacket. I briefly wonder whether I modeled him after a character in a gangster movie or something.

The man is on his second glass when the door leading into the house opens. A woman is there, having heard me. She’s been expecting me and beckons for me to come in. I go, inviting the man to follow along as well.

Another sudden shift of scene. We’re sitting in a room, at a square table. Across from me is the woman: we’re talking about something, although I can’t remember any of the details now. Meanwhile the man, seated on the side to my left, seems oblivious to our conversation. His attention is focused on what looks like a primitive electronic toy of a sort that was around in the ‘90s, and maybe later too, but I really have no idea. It’s pastel blue, and it emits all kinds of little bleeps and blips as he presses buttons. He’s apparently trying to type something out but finding it rather hard going. I hear an awful lot of the two-quick-blips sound (I recognize the interval they make as a descending tritone) that indicates he’s using the backspace key.

And then I wake up.


19.12.24

My dream environment changed to my previous job location. I recognize the shift as it was occurring and gained lucidity from it. I walk around analyzing the carpet and desk. I confirmed to myself that this is the area of the job I had earlier this year. That's when I notice other people sitting down conversing with one another. It looks like your typical board meeting. I eventually saw someone I knew and began talking with her about how I knew this was a dream.

During the conversation I eventually lost lucidity.

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3 nights and only a flash of a fragment about Jamie...

Can't recall the first night. During the day The Jesus voice indicate that Jamie was getting into something that she shouldn't. The biggest hint is that she was looking at things she shouldn't (IYKYK. I've had struggles with that as well... from time to time).

Lucid but no cigar

I was in a building with some people. couches in a corner. I became lucid but the dream started blacking out. I held on somehow. I said I wanted to go to Jamie's dream. I wound up in a psychedelic tunnel space. I kept floating through it trying to find Jamie. One tunnel just led to another of different colors. I went through 3 or so. Then my memory fades. Kinda felt like I was stuck in the Dr. Who title screen if you know what I mean.

What?

A dream where Kurt Cobain was in the black space. He had a guitar and was strumming it. He sang, "A lemonade alright, No Chick-Fil_A sauce." In a sing song voice. He looked pissed off that he was singing it and walked away.

Funny. I really hope that doesn't get stuck in my head again.

Flash

A flash of Jamie naked with some woman...

Um okay. I really wish I would stop dreaming about that.

I had trouble with the Jamie voice this morning. She said she was stupid? I asked what it was about. I had 4 different Jamie voices give me 4 different answers... I was like, "Well, whatever you did. I'm not finding you in dreams lately and right now the continuity of hearing your voice is breaking down. So maybe give it a rest." Literally hasn't been that bad in months. (I'm not all blaming the lack of dreams on her. I have a tough time recalling things sometimes. It's also very hard to dream about the same thing continuously for such a long time. Might be why I keep seeing Jamie as different people, but I can tell who she is by her behavior) Her voice seemed down today, almost guilty or regretful. I did some early prayers already because she asked.

I know I had many dreams but I only recall one. To start the family and I were at my Granny & Papa’s (a place long since gone in RL). CF (my ex-husband) showed up and needed a ride. He asked to spend some time with the boys so I told him that he could come with us to ‘the Houston house’ (another place long since gone). This made TH angry but he conceded for the boys sake. When we arrived it was apparent the house had been left to sit, it was unlived in but generally clean, it was on the market. There was a big beautiful fluffy dog locked in the master bathroom and it had soiled the floor. There was urine and diarrhea everywhere. I remember thinking that I would not be cleaning it because my mom and stepdad were the ones to leave the dog there. We were trying to figure out what to make for dinner but the fridge and pantry were empty. CF was following me around. He was not really spending time with the boys. He seemed to be trying to make a move on me. He was making himself too at home. It made TH angry. It made me uncomfortable and I wanted him to leave but I realized he would be stranded in Houston. I was hinting at him needing to leave. He had a friend come pick him up who was obviously a fellow drug addict. We were making dinner.

I’m driving to a grocery store with my mother. Not clear what the context is, as the environment seems entirely unfamiliar. I park the car, and in response to something my mother said, I get her a black cardigan (maybe the wrong name for it - I never know what to call articles of clothing….) that just seems to be kicking around somewhere in the backseat so that she won’t be cold inside. We go in.

We are immediately confronted by almost bare shelves. Uh-oh. Maybe this wasn’t the best day to come here. We might have trouble finding what we’re looking for today. But most of the store isn’t quite that bad.

At some point, we split up. The store seems to be divided into distinct sections, with different kinds of food in each, and I walk through a couple of them before I hear something strange. There’s music playing, but the melody is just one note, played in a rhythm over the changing chords. I see where it’s coming from: it’s something like an arcade game, although it seems to be specifically set up for music creation. Beside it are two women. One is a frail-looking older woman, who I think was in a wheelchair, and the other looks like she may be some kind of medical attendant. She’s the one who’s tapping out the single note over what I gather the older woman has made on the machine, apparently to help out in some way.

How I can tactfully step in and take over, since the attendant obviously has no idea what she’s doing? I can already imagine the melody I’d improvise - a simple one that keeps the rhythm she’s tapping out, but with a better fitting, musical shape. I wake up and immediately record what I remember:



(I put chord indications in, but I’m actually not 100% sure of anything except the cadence. For the rest, I just picked out the simplest chords that would match what I remember of where the repeated note was clashing and what I intended to do to fix it. It’s not all that interesting of a musical fragment, but the simplicity did make it relatively easy to transcribe after awakening.)

16.12.24

I had no recall over night. I only slept approximately 4 hours.

I took a midday nap. I fell to sleep in mantra. First I dreamt I was at SB’s house at a friend gathering. The layout was strange. TH (my husband) was in the shower. He broke the shower curtain and was asking for a friend to come help him because I’m too short. I went to retrieve said friend from the kitchen. There was a door to the kitchen. Someone locked it. TH stood on the other side, banging on it, repeating his own name in a grotesque manner. SF (our middle son 6yo) was terrified. Someone looked out of a window at TH and they too seemed terrified. My heart sank.

I woke and fell back to sleep again. TH and I were going to an event at the college. We sat in a large crowded auditorium. He sat with the students, I sat with the professors. Someone nearby had a boom box. We all danced. I was nervous, which is unusual, I like to dance even in crowded rooms. I wondered if TH was watching and if it made him happy to see me dance again. My side of the auditorium was dismissed. I couldn’t find TH. I went to the truck to wait for him. Inside the truck I found my middle school boyfriend, Matt. He responded as if we were together and he had been the person I attended the event with. I felt as if I was cheating but memories of my husband started to fade. I had the thought that I was only with Matt because I was lonely and I felt generally unhappy with the situation. I wanted to go home. I wanted to find TH. I asked him to take me home. The truck began moving but no one was driving. A blonde women with her hair in a bun and a dress on came to the window, she had the distinct look of an elementary school teacher. She spoke into a walkie-talkie, presumably notifying the police of our driverless vehicle. I hopped in the front seat and tried to drive. I’ve never been able to drive in my dreams. I ended up going the wrong way down a one way street. The city we were in was decorated with Christmas lights.

I seem to be visiting my parents - maybe over the holidays or something like that. The dream is set late at night, in what is maybe supposed to be their house. It’s a condo that seems very beige and nondescript to the point of not really looking like a place where people live. More like a hotel room or something.

On this day every year, on which everything always happens exactly the same, I can see into the future. It’s all just there for me - the memories of how things will go. I try talking to them about it, my mother in particular, but although it doesn’t seem as if she actively disbelieves what I’m saying, it’s clear that she hasn’t really absorbed it, or considered the implications in any depth. I was talking to my father at some point, too - about being able to see the bad things that will happen to him, and to me as well, but already knowing saying it isn’t actually going to lead to anything. This apparently relates to dreams in a way that’s no longer clear - I actually use the phrase, “this dream I’m having right now” - although, somehow, I manage to do so without it triggering lucidity.

Later in the night, in another dream, I’m in what’s supposed to be my room. I’m digitizing a record - “Tomorrow Never Knows,” by the Beatles. The screen is on some kind of high shelf - too high up for me to be able to read it easily, which I find kind of annoying.

Partway through, my uncle comes in - maybe my uncle. It kind of seems like he’s my father in the dream, or some kind of half-invented composite figure. A number of people follow him in - seven or eight of them. They are apparently family, but also people I haven’t known for long, as if they’re in-laws or something of the sort. They are mostly male, and younger - the exception being the eldest of them, a teenage girl who comes in holding a small child.

My uncle apparently had something to tell me, and leaves after saying it. I’m surprised he didn’t take any notice of the device I have set up. It was his, after all - he just gave it to me because he wasn’t doing anything with it. The others all stick around, though, as if they’re curious and just don’t have anything better to do than watch what I’m doing.

9.12.24

For the past week or so I’ve thought to resume my dream journey but I had not taken any steps forward until last night when I created a new account here on DV and read through an old dream journal. When I woke this morning with the baby around 3-5am and could not fall back to sleep per usual, I recited that old familiar mantra “I will dream and know that I am dreaming.”

I received many fragments. I know one of which I was briefly lucid. I was in what appeared to be an underground subway. I knew I was underground, I knew this was a place where travelers found direction and there was a long hallway before me. It was particularly bright, as if there were light radiating from the walls. The walls were two toned. There were small square inch tiles, clean white on the bottom and iridescent blue on top. As I became lucid I tried to grab hold. I focused in on the details of the tiles. The blue shimmered as if it was alive, subtly dancing. It was a beautiful bright royal blue. I reached to touch and they were uniquely textured, rough like sandpaper but soft like sand. I woke again. Every time I woke I recited the mantra and fell back to sleep.

Other fragments included more dreams about trying to measure my blood pressure in various stressful situations. RL I have struggled with medical anxiety due to several traumas over the past year and it has been the subject of my nightmares for the past few weeks which is one of the reasons I was drawn back here.

Blurry. I dreamt I was at a party of sorts. The party goers were nurses. I made friends with them. I was at a table with several of them. One nurse spoke to me as if I was diagnosed with a terminal illness, confirming a lack of comorbidities and listing all the reasons I had to be grateful. She was kind and reassuring. I was confused. She thought I had cancer. Another nurse indicated to her that I did not. She looked embarrassed. I probably looked frightened. My husband beside me squeezed my hand.

There was a large hill. Someone one was hurt at the bottom of it. I tried to help.

I made more friends. We talked. We shared our vulnerabilities and laughed together. I felt lonely when I woke up.